No Beast so Fierce
by Verbosity
Summary: A brief encounter with a Vulcan ship, a singularity, an accident, and suddenly the world seems wrong to the Enterprise crew. A EnterpriseBabylon 5 crossover.
1. Default Chapter

No Beast so Fierce…

Chapter 1

By Verbosity

  


I hold now ownership of the settings or many of the characters in this fiction. I make no profit off of it.

  


As always reviews are appreciated.

  


  


Captain Jonathan Archer's voice was terse with pain as his command cut through the smoky air of the bridge. "Report!"

Lieutenant Malcolm Reed, grasping his console, dragged himself back into his seat from being sprawled on the floor. He flinched at the sudden explosion of sparks from the panel behind him. "Main power is offline, life-support is stable, the warp core is offline, antimatter containment is fluctuating, but the backup magnetic fields appear to be functional so I don't think we're in any danger."

"You don't think?" Archer's question came out as a gasp of pain as he tried to lever himself off the deck plates. Yes, his leg was definitely broken. 

"It's hard to tell. Three quarters of our systems are offline, and half the diagnostic circuits appear to be burnt out." Malcom grimaced at the console in front of him. "Sub-commander, do you…Sub-commander!" 

The alarm in the Lieutenant's voice whipped Archer' head around to look toward T'Pol's console. From his position of the floor all he could see was her arm, extending out from behind the station, her hand twitching slightly.

Hoshi Sato, slightly dazed but all right, had managed to stagger to her feet, and moved to T'pol.

Ensign Travis Mayweather, who had also pulled himself up, coughed on the acidic smoke of burnt electronics in the air as he knelt by the captain's side.

"Hoshi, what happened to her?" Archer questioned. Concern filtering even through the pain in his voice.

"I don't know." Hoshi's voice emanated from behind the console. "She's unconscious, and I think she's having a seizure."

Archer reached up to the comm. panel on the arm of the command chair. "Bridge to Phlox, we had a medical emergency." There was no response.

After tapping a few buttons on his console, Malcolm said, "The comm. system is down." 

"Damn it!" Archer swore. Grabbing hold of the chair with one hand and Travis's shoulder with the other, he heaved himself upright, balancing on one foot. The air in his lungs hissed out between his clenched teeth and he was suddenly very pale. 

As he swayed on his feet Travis grabbed hold of his arm steadying him. "Sir…"

"Travis, help Hoshi get T'Pol to sickbay." Archer gingerly settled himself into the command chair."

"Sir, your leg." 

"It can wait ensign. Go."

As Travis and Hoshi maneuvered T'Pol off the bridge, Archer looked away from them and back to Malcolm. "What the hell happened?"

"I don't know sir. Just a moment before, whatever it was hit us, the sensors registered a sudden distortion in the event horizon of the singularity." 

"Is the Vulcan ship still out there?" Archer glanced briefly at the static on the main view-screen.

Malcom shook his head helplessly, "Sensors are offline too sir, we're blind and dead in the water." 

The Captain looked at the Lieutenant for a moment, then back at the static on the view screen, and remembered the events of the last day.

They had been en-route to investigate an inhabited binary star system when the Enterprise had detected a Vulcan cruiser about a quarter of a light-year off their course. This in itself wasn't strange, the oddity that prompted Captain Archer to change course to investigate was the fact that it was sitting unmoving in interstellar space, with more than four light-years to the nearest star system. As the Enterprise approached the Vulcan ship it began to detect an immense gravitational field. Further sensor scans had indicated the presence of a singularity with fifty solar masses drifting through the void of interstellar space. 

They had been contacted by the Vulcan ship, identified as the Shirasna, moments after dropping out of warp. The Vulcan captain had been polite, but cool, as he inquired as to the Enterprise's presence. Archer had answered that they had picked up the Vulcan ship and had been curious, thinking that maybe it needed help. The Vulcan said that such was not necessary and that they were merely taking the opportunity to investigate the singularity. Jon after a moment's consideration, asked if they would mind the Enterprise sticking around to pursue its own observations. In responding, the Vulcan captain had been emotionless, and yet somehow at the same time managed to be faintly condescending as he agreed. It set Jon's teeth on edge. 

Over the next few hours the two ships had poked and prodded the black hole with their sensors. T'Pol, as well as the Vulcan scientists on the other ship, had made note of the singularity's rather particular property of resonance: when certain frequencies of radiation from the sensors hit the event horizon there were spontaneous micro-fluctuations in quantum vacuum near the singularity, and particles were emitted. The particles were unremarkable, but for the fact that their quantum signatures were "out of synchronicity with other matter". At least that's what the Vulcan's had said. The Enterprise's sensors weren't advanced enough to resolve the particle's quantum signatures. 

There had been no indication of any problems until the Vulcan vessel had launched a probe and sent it skimming across the event horizon. Then everything went to hell.

There had been a sudden fluctuation in the gravitational fields of the black hole and then it felt like the Enterprise had run into a wall while traveling at warp five. Archer had been knocked right out of his chair. Things were a bit hazy, but that would have been about when he had broken his leg. He also remembered a nauseating, distorting-wrenching sensation, and he may have briefly lost consciousness. 

  


Jon pulled himself out of the memory. First priority: make sure his crew was all right and find out the situation of his ship, without sensors, for all he knew they were drifting into the singularity. Second priority: repairs, and the Vulcans.

Thoughts racing, he turned to the two other crewmembers on the bridge. "Ensign Davis go down to supply and get communicators and distribute them to the crew. Ensign O'Connell get a hand held sensor unit and find a porthole, see if you can check on the Vulcan ship and our position relative to the singularity."

"Aye, sir."

As the two left he turned to Malcolm, "Give me a full report on all systems."

  


  


***

  


"So what's it look like Trip?" Jon asked. Grimacing in pain as he tried to adjust the position of his leg.

Commander Charles "Trip" Tucker's voice came out of the communicator sounding stressed, his southern drawl more pronounced than usual. "Not good Cap'n. We've managed to stabilize the antimatter containment, but there was an overload in the warp core. It didn't breach of course, but the power surge fried the warp coils. Without replacements we're not goin' anywhere. If you give me a day I can get ya main power and the impulse drive back, but no warp power." A tired sigh came over the link. "More systems are offline than on. If I had parts and facilities I could get you all systems back in two to three weeks. Without, it'll be a month or more, and that's only if I can rig a replacement for the warp coils. Think ya can ask the Vulcans if they have any spares?"

"I'll look into it when we finally get hold of them. They don't seem to be responding to our communicators." Jon said. "Is there any good news?" 

"Well, the hull plating is intact, though the relays powering it are burnt out, but relatively speaking that'll be easy to fix."

"Concentrate on the impulse engines at the moment Trip. If we're drifting toward the singularity I want to be able to pull away from it."

"I'm on it Cap'n. Tucker out."

Jon flipped closed the communicator. The lift door swished open disgorging Hoshi and Travis back onto the bridge. Turning to look, Jon bumped his leg. He closed his eyes, fighting the sudden blast of pain.

"Sir?" Travis's hand came down gently on his shoulder.

He opened his eyes to see both Hoshi and Malcolm looking at him in concern.

"Captain, you need to have that treated, please go to sickbay. I'll call you the instant anything happens." Malcolm's voice had a half exasperated half pleading note to it.

Jon, looking over at him said, "Stubborn captains, eh?" 

The other man's face was perfectly serious as he said, "Yes sir, but you never say that to their face. Travis, help him get to sickbay."

With Travis's help he got to his feet and hobbled into the lift. Looking back into the bridge, just before the door closed, he said, "I'll be back in just a bit Lieutenant."

  


***

  


Sitting on one of the beds in sickbay as the doctor treated his leg he was surprised that there were relatively few injuries, most of those bruises and bumps. At the moment they were the only people in sickbay, as the only crewmember in a condition serious enough to be stranded in there was T'Pol.

"There, that should work nicely." Doctor Phlox said as he finished applying the leg brace. "That will keep the brake from moving, and the enzymes should have the bone fused in a couple of days. How is the pain? Do you need any more anesthetic?"

"No thanks Doc." Jon turned to look over at the bed in which T'Pol rested in, unconscious. "How is she?"

Phlox's face became grave, or at least what the captain had come to associate with grave for a Denobulan. "Not well. There is considerable deterioration in the function of her nervous system." 

"Deterioration in…how did that happen?" His expression was both concerned and baffled. 

"Captain, do you know what the…phenomenon was?" Phlox asked carefully.

"No. Not really. There was some sort of flux in subspace, but that's all our sensors recorded before they were knocked out. Why?" He turned away from the other bed to face the doctor. "What does that have to do with T'Pol's condition?"

"All of the patients that came into sick bay, and from my results, I would guess, all of the crew, have suffered a major biological shock. The central nervous system seems to have been most affected. With humans the effects seem to have been minor, but the Vulcan central nervous system is distinctly different and the effects were certainly not minor."

"So the phenomenon is what did this to her?" 

"That would be my guess." Phlox hesitated a moment.

"What is it Doctor?" 

"Captain, have you been able to make contact with the Vulcan ship yet?"

"No, we…" The pieces suddenly came together and a cold feeling settled in his gut. "The other Vulcans, would the same have happened to them?"

Phlox nodded, "I believe so." He paused a moment then went on, "The only reason T'Pol is alive right now is that I have several drugs in her system stabilizing her neural pathways. The Vulcans on the Shirasna do not have that. It is a virtual certainty that they are all dead."

"Damn." He rubbed the bridge of his nose. "The transporter is offline, and we can't even get the shuttle bay doors open right now." Looking back up at Phlox, he asked, "Is there any chance that the Vulcans are still alive?"

Phlox shook his head. "No. Not at this point." His face lacked his usual optimism as he glanced at T'Pol still form. "In fact, I'm not certain how much longer I can keep her alive." 

Jon opened his mouth to speak when his communicator beeped. 

"Archer here."

"Sir, it's Ensign O'Connell." The young woman's voice blurted through the device. She sounded shaken.

"Steady ensign. Take a deep breath…now what is it?"

"Sir, I took the portable scanner to the view-ports in the mess…the singularity…sir it's gone!"

"What?" 

"I'm not detecting any gravitational field. I've run the scan four times now Sir, and the only thing out there is the Vulcan ship, about a kilometer off starboard."

"That is impossible." The voice was barely a whisper, emanating from T'Pol's form. 

Jon's head snapped around to look at the Vulcan who seemed to be barely, and grimly, fighting her way to consciousness. Phlox moved quickly to her side as she spoke again.

"A singularity of that mass…" her voice wavered, and almost died. "…can not…spontaneously…" he voice faded away, and she drifted back into unconsciousness. 

"Sir?" O'Connell's voice came over the communicator again.

"What are you picking up on the status of the Shirasna ensign?" Jon asked, his eyes still on his first officer. 

"My scans aren't very detailed sir, but it looks like they're in the same boat as us: main power down, systems out. And sir…I'm not picking up any life signs." 

Closing his eyes Jon said, "Understood Ensign. Relay the information to Lieutenant Reed on the bridge. Archer out." Over two hundred Vulcans dead. Jonathan had never been particularly fond of Vulcans, but the last year with a first officer of that particular species had mellowed his views some, well in her case anyway. But they certainly hadn't deserved this. He felt a surge of anger. There had been no indication of anything wrong, so what the hell happened?

Opening his eyes he saw Phlox waving a diagnostic tool over T'Pol. "Doctor…" The entire ship jerked violently, the movement accompanied by a booming sound that not only heard throughout the ship but also could be felt through its very structure. Grasping wildly for a handhold to steady himself with, he barely had time to recognize an explosion before the ship bucked again, hurling him off the bed. His last conscious memory was the shrieking sound of tearing metal. 

  


  


***

  


Consciousness returned slowly, and through the hazy pounding in his head he recognized the chittering of that damn bat of Phlox's. Groaning, he tried to get up.

Immediately Phlox was at his side, pressing him by his shoulders back onto the bed. "No, no, Captain. Stay where you are. You hit you head quite hard coming off the table like that. Fortunately the leg brace stayed firm; wouldn't want to have to redo all that work after all." He smiled down at Jon.

"Doctor, what happened? There was an explosion…" Looking around, but trying not to move his head too much he saw the sick bay was on emergency lighting. 

"First of all, other than a few more bruises, no one was seriously hurt." At Jon's impatient expression he continued, "There was an explosion in the torpedo bay."

The Captain immediately pushed off Phlox's hands and started to struggle to his feet. 

"Captain you can't leave…" 

"With respect Doctor, I appreciate the need for you to monitor your patients but I need to see to my ship." He fought off a slight bout of nausea as he reached a standing position. After a moment he took a step, the leg brace was a little bulky, but he could move with it. 

"I am not referring to your condition, though that is reason enough, but to the fact that sickbay is sealed off from the rest of the ship."

Jon turned back to him in surprise. 

"The explosion tore through several bulkheads and cut off the two routes to sickbay, it will be several hours before a way can be cleared through."

There was shock in the Captain's gaze at the amount of damage that implied. "And you're sure no one was hurt?"

"Quite sure Captain." Phlox held up his communicator. 

Taking it from him, Jon flipped it open. "Archer to the bridge." 

"Captain!" Hoshi's exited voice burst from the communicator. "It's good to hear you sir." 

"It's good to be heard. What's our status?"

"Well sir, it looks like one of the torpedo warheads detonated. That's supposed to be impossible when they're disarmed, the Lieutenant is trying to figure out how it happened, and incidentally, how it managed not to set off all the others and blow up the ship."

From the tone of her voice he could picture the little shudder she gave at the thought.

"Fortunately there was no one in that area when it went off. They were all back working on the impulse engines and the warp core."

"And the repairs?"

"Commander Tucker says that it will be at least another fourteen hours before he can bring the impulse drive online. He's also detailed a couple parties to clearing you a way out of sickbay." Her voice became apologetic. "It's going to take awhile sir. The hull has been compromised in one area, and they're trying to seal it so they can get into the corridor without pressure suits."

"It's alright ensign. I'll check back in a few hours. Archer out." He flicked the device closed.

"Well," he said, heaving a sigh filled with stress and worry. "Hurry up and wait."

  


***

Jon looked up from the pad at the urgent beeping sound from the monitors over T'Pol's bed, and he watched worriedly as Phlox rushed over to tend to her. It the hours since he had awakened in sickbay his second in command's condition had worsened. Phlox had tried one remedy after another, but none of it seemed to be working. Whatever was happening to her seemed to be implacable in its progress.

As the Doctor stepped away, the most recent crisis averted, Jonathan felt something inside that he had not realized he had tensed up, unclench just a little bit.

"Doctor?" His voice was questioning. He had never seen Phlox look so discouraged. 

"I've tried almost everything I can think of, and it's all ineffectual." 

"Almost everything?"

The Denobulan took a deep breath and seemed consider something for along moment. "There is one possibility, but it is, as you humans would say, a long shot. I do not know if it would be possible to accomplish, and even if it is, it would involve considerable danger to someone else."

He paused and Jon just looked at him, waiting.

"The Vulcan healers have a tradition of using telepathy and other psychic skills to assist in healing. We may be able to help the Sub-commander with something of the sort."

"But we don't have any other Vulcans or telepaths of any kind on board." 

"Ah," the Doctor said as if making a revelation. "All we need is T'Pol, if we provide the means for her mind to heal itself." 

Jon's look was perplexed. "I'm not following you."

"If we give her mind and nervous system another mind and nervous system to lean on I believe hers will be able to repair itself."

Jon mulled it over for a moment. "So, you're suggesting that we telepathically connect T'Pol with another person to…give her the strength to heal herself." He was a little bemused by the idea.

Seeing his expression Phlox said, "I am quite serious Captain. Similar techniques have been used on Vulcan for millennia. Though always with extremely disciplined and highly trained Vulcans, never with a human. That's where the risk comes in."

Jon remained silent, thinking. "She is unconscious so…" he trailed off.

"I would make use of a stimulant to bring her to consciousness and get her to initiate the process." Phlox explained. "After that, I think it would simply be a matter of letting nature take it's course."

"You think?"

"I am not a Vulcan doctor, and they do not speak of these things. I have never attempted anything like this. As I said, it is a long shot."

Jon turned again to look at the figure lying on the bed. His mouth tightened.

"Captain, it would have to be very soon. She is getting weaker." 

"And since there is no one else, if we do this I get to be the guinea pig." He sighed. "Get what you need ready Doctor." As Phlox moved away he removed his communicator from his jumpsuit pocket and flicked it open. "Archer to bridge."

  


  


***

"Sir, I understand, but this leaves Enterprise in a very bad position if it goes wrong. We could lose both our captain and first officer." Lieutenant Reed's voice was tense coming over the communicator.

"I know Lieutenant, but if I do nothing she dies, and I can't do nothing when I have a course of action open." I couldn't help the Vulcans, but I'll damn well save her, the thought flitted through his mind. "You have your orders Lieutenant. Wish me luck. Archer out."

As he turned back to Phlox and moved to T'Pol's bedside there was a little flutter of fear in his stomach. Taking a deep breath he said, "Okay, what do I do?"

"Just try to be calm Captain." 

The Doctor reached down and injected something into T'Pol's arm. Leaning over her he said, "Sub-commander? Sub-commander, you need to wake up."

Her eyelids began to twitch and she made a low confused sound in her throat. Slowly her eyes opened. Her gaze was unfocused, dazed. 

Jon tuned what Phlox was saying to her out as he looked down. Those butterflies in his stomach were getting rowdy. His attention returned to what the Doctor was doing when the Denobulan took T'Pol's hand and placed it on the side of his face. 

As soon as Phlox let go, her hand began to slip away. "Hold it there, Captain." The Doctor said. 

He did as he was told, her fingers hot against the skin of his face. 

Phlox's voice was a murmur as he spoke to the Vulcan. Seconds passed and Jon began to fear T'Pol was too far gone to understand or accomplish what Phlox wanted.

The butterflies in his stomach faded a little with relief as seconds passed and nothing happened. Guilt at that feeling welled up immediately, mixed with even stronger emotions of worry and fear.

His sequence of thought derailed as he felt something. It wasn't sensation he could describe, or rather it wasn't a sensation he had ever had to describe, and so didn't know how. A light brush of presence whispered at the edges of his consciousness. Other, alien thought, disoriented, and confused, poured into his mind. Images, sounds, smell: things he had never heard, seen or done flickered in and out of perception. The strength of T'Pol's mind was overwhelming, as was a sense of confusion, disorientation, and pain. Jon's mind began to shut down in defense against the bombardment of input from a source it was totally unprepared to deal with. 

As though faded, he remembered something he knew he had never seen: T'Khut rising over the Vulcan desert, sand and rock stained with the fierce red light of that world's angry sister, and tinged with a sense of home. And then, as the sunset faded into darkness, he remembered nothing at all. 

  


  


***

  


  


Trip stared at the readings on the medical readout over the bed for a moment, and then with a sigh, turned his eyes back to the figure resting on it.

Jonathan Archer lay unmoving and silent on the bed, as he had for the last two days. His vital signs were strong, but he seemed to lack any inclination to awake, and Phlox had been unable to rouse him. The Doctor thought that this state that he was in was simply a defensive mechanism, and he would come out of it when his body and mind had adjusted. About his patients, the Doctor was unflaggingly optimistic.

Patients. The thought brought Trip's eyes to the figure on the bed next to the Captain's. T'Pol's complexion was paler than her normal Vulcan bronze, but color seemed to be returning slowly. The gamble the Captain had taken appeared to be working. Her condition had stabilized shortly after the…connection had been established between them. When Phlox had tried to describe the bond he had been unable to be very specific, the Vulcans had never been very forthcoming on the nature of such things. Their mental abilities were a very private thing to them, and not much was known of the nature, or effects of them, outside of the Vulcans. 

While he was unhappy about his friend's condition, he understood why Jon had done it. His friend had never been able to stand by and do nothing while someone else suffered. Not when there was something, anything, he could do.

Reaching out, he gently rested his hand on his friend's shoulder, watching as his breathing continued, slow and even. Heaving another sigh he spoke, his voice quiet, "Come on back soon Jon. We need ya here." Removing his hand he turned and with a last glance, walked out of sickbay. 

As the highest-ranking officer still conscious, he was the acting captain of the Enterprise. He was also, unfortunately at the moment, its chief engineer. 

It had taken the better part of a day and a half to restore the impulse engines to working order, the time made longer by the crews he had put to work repairing the most urgent damage done by the torpedo explosion. They had determined that the warhead that had detonated had been one that Lieutenant Reed had been in the process of recalibrating, and had thus been in a separate compartment from the others. But they still had no idea why it had gone off, it had been in its safe, disarmed mode, and detonation should have been impossible. 

Except for the patch the explosion had blown out, the polarized plating was online and functioning. His repair crews were replacing circuits left and right, as the phenomenon that had hit them seemed to have had a special penchant for frying electronics, particularly those not as well shielded or durable as the main systems. Not that those main systems had faired much better.

The news about the Vulcan Ship had circulated fast among the crew. Vulcans in general had not been terribly popular, with the exception of Sub-commander T'Pol, as her actions had earned her a great deal of respect from the crew. Yet there was an air of shock and horrified disbelief that pervaded the ship. In spite of the resentment their cool impartial attitudes generated, the Vulcans had always seemed superior and invincible. They were stronger, faster, in general smarter, and they had been in space for much longer than humans: more than two and a half millennia, from historical records. Which meant that when Mankind was still trying to figure out iron, the Vulcans were beginning to reach into the stars. 

The fact that the crew of the Shirasna had succumbed so swiftly, and the current state of Captain Archer and Sub-commander T'Pol, meant that the crew was feeling a bit in over their heads. 

Trip, trying to co-ordinate repairs, and work with the rest of the crew as he felt a captain should, was beginning to feel seriously overextended. In the interest of lifting morale, he had detailed a crew to get the subspace communications array up and working. He figured getting connected to home would boost morale a bit, and they could also contact the Vulcan High Command about the Shirasna. Late yesterday they had managed to get a shuttle pod working and pried the shuttle bay doors open to take a closer look at the Vulcan ship. The readings had just confirmed Ensign O'Connell's: there was no life onboard. 

Trip was broken out of his thought by the sudden chirp of his communicator. Extracting it from the jumpsuit pocket, he prayed the repair crews hadn't found another problem.

"Tucker here."

"Sir," Hoshi's voice came through the device. She sounded a little rattled. "Could you come to the bridge, there's something you need to see." 

"Is everythin' alright Hoshi?"

"Commander…it…Sir, you really just need to see it."

Frowning he answered, "Alright, I'm on my way."

Turning left down the corridor he made his way to the turbo lift. Lieutenant Reed was waiting at it. 

Seeing him there, Trip asked, "Did you get…"

"A call from Hoshi? Yes."

"Hunh. Wonder what it is. She sounded a little shaken up."

The doors swished open and they stepped inside and Reed punched the button for the bridge. "I don't know sir. The last couple days have been pretty stressful."

"True, I just hope it's not another problem."

The doors of the lift opened to the bridge. The view screen, no longer crackling with static, was blank. The repair crews were too occupied with the more essential repairs to fix such a minor subsystem. Ensign Mayweather sat on station at the helm, but when Trip turned his eyes toward the communications console, Hoshi wasn't at it. Blinking in surprise he swiveled his head back toward the only place she could be. Moving forward, he found her bent over the computer table at the back of the bridge. A large star chart displayed itself over the screen. 

"Hoshi?" He asked getting her attention.

"Sirs," she said, straightening up.

"What's so urgent that you needed us both up here Ensign?" Malcolm asked.

"It's this sir," she said gesturing down at the screen. 

"A starmap?" Trip looked back up at her, puzzled.

Malcolm continued to look at the screen, with the feeling that something about the starmap was different…wrong. 

"You know we've gotten the sensors partially up." Trip nodded as Hoshi spoke. "We thought that since we were no longer in the vicinity of the black hole, we must have been thrown away from it somehow. Well, when we took a star position reading to determine our location, we got a really weird result." 

"Wha'dya mean?" The commander looked askance at her rather disturbed expression. 

"The computer thinks we didn't move at all, but it's a little confused over a few things." She turned back to the star chart on the screen and pointed to it, "Look here. There's Sol, and there's Alpha Centauri, and there's Epsilon Eridani, but look over here. Where is Andor? And Risa? In addition to the singularity vanishing there are half a dozen different star systems missing." 

"What…" Trip trailed off unable to voice a coherent question as he looked over at Reed who appeared as uneasy as he felt.

"And that's not all." Hoshi's voice drew their attention back to her. "The repair crews got the subspace receiver back online just a few hours ago, so we can listen but we can't send. I've been listening since then, and there's nothing."

Reed spoke up, "Ensign, it isn't like anyone is going to be immediately trying to contact us, Starfleet…" 

"No, you don't understand," her voice was a little frantic. "There is nothing at all. Even in deep space we catch fragments of subspace signals from different species and ships, and the static generated by subspace fields and other devices. There is none of that, just total silence." 

Trip had a really bad feeling growing in the pit of his stomach. 

"It's as if there were no one using subspace at all, not for anything." Travis spoke from his station at the helm. 

Looking at the tense, disturbed faces of his fellow crewmembers, Commander Trip Tucker thought to his captain in sickbay, "Jon, wakin' up right about now would be real good." 


	2. Chapter 2

No Beast so Fierce...

Chapter 2

By Verbosity

  


For disclaimer look to the first chapter.

  


As always, I love feedback.

  


  


  


Returning to consciousness was a terrible effort. Thoughts moved sluggishly through his mind as he forced his way nearer to the light. He wasn't alone, and for some reason he found that odd, though he couldn't think why. Struggling, he remembered. That was why: it was because he had always been alone. There had never been this sense of presence, this…other. There wasn't supposed to be, not here in this place. 

He forced his way further up out of the warm darkness, some of the lethargy fleeing from his mind. There was a sense of difference. Something was different, wrong with the world. All was not as it should be. No, wait...that wasn't him, it was the other, the other had that feeling: a sensation that something fundamental had changed, something so basic that its existence had not even been perceived until it was so shockingly altered.

He groaned. Yes, he remembered. He was…he was… 

His mind tried to pull answers from the shadowy twilight surrounding him, ideas thoughts floated close only to disappear into darkness when he reached for them. 

"Captain?" The voice penetrated the shadows. It was familiar. There was a face associated with that voice, a name. 

"Captain, can you hear me?" The voice came again, clearer this time. He realized that he was still drifting into the brightness he had so struggled toward.

He burst suddenly into light like a swimmer breaking the surface of the water gasping for precious air. Phlox. That was the voice's name.

He became aware that he was lying on some surface. It was soft, comfortable. There was a thin covering over him, not for warmth; the temperature was quite comfortable. So why was it there? Where was he? 

The answer bubbled up from the depths of his mind: sickbay. That single thought unleashed a torrent. Thoughts, memories, all the contents of his mind, fell into place and he tried to open his eyes. His vision was blurry and he squinted against the light. There was a dark shape looming over him that after a moment resolved into the smiling face of Doctor Phlox. 

Jon's voice came out as a croak, "Doctor?"

"How are you feeling Captain? We were beginning to get a bit worried."

How was he feeling? Turning his attention inward he addressed the question. 

The pain in his leg was gone, and so was the dull throbbing of his head. All in all he felt pretty good, a little tired maybe, like even when he had been sleeping he had put effort into something. He was about to say so to Phlox when a shiver went through his mind. 

It was an indescribable sensation. A ripple of thought and feeling in his mind that wasn't him: in which he had no part other than to feel it. 

"Captain?"

He realized he was staring blankly up at the ceiling, seeing nothing; his mind totally focused on that part of himself that was no longer his. Breaking away he returned his attention to Doctor Phlox.

"Sorry Doctor, it's just, well, T'Pol decided to…" he struggled for a word to describe the sensation, and unable to find one simply said, "Shift. In here."

"Really?" Phlox seemed fascinated, excited. "So you're aware of her on a conscious level?"

"Oh, yeah." The little well of sensation in his head rippled again, restlessly. It was going to be hard to concentrate if this was normal.

"Fascinating. I've read a great deal of the literature on telepathic bonding, not that there's very much to begin with, but rarely is a bond between a telepath and non-telepath ever mentioned. This will make quite a fascinating study. Do you-"

"Doctor," Jon said, cutting off the flow of words. "I appreciate your enthusiasm, but how is my crew and ship? How long have I been out?"

"Ah, well, you've been unconscious of the last two days-"

"Two days!"

"Oh, not to worry, Captain. Commander Tucker has matters well in hand. He-"

The com let out a noise, demanding attention, and Phlox stepped over to the console to push a button. "Phlox here."

Tucker's voice came over the speaker. "Doc. Please, tell me somethin's changed since I was last down there."

"Indeed it has Commander. The Captain just woke up a couple minutes ago."

"Trip?" Jon spoke up.

"Jon," The voice across the com oozed relief. "I don't think your voice has ever sounded better."

Jon smiled. "You sound like a man with a problem."

"Oh, you could say that. I got about a million an' one. But all those are engineering problems. It's this last one that's a kicker."

The odd note in Trip's voice set off warning alarms in Jon's head. "Oh?" he said cautiously.

"Well, while you were asleep we seemed to have… ah… misplaced about half the galaxy."

  


  


***

  


"Nothing?"

Hoshi shook her head. "Not a peep, sir." She tapped a few buttons on her console. "All systems show normal. The subspace array is functioning perfectly. The only explanation I can come up with is that there's no one out there to reply."

Jon glanced over at Trip and said, "Well, that pretty much cinches it."

Malcolm shook his head from where he sat at tactical. "It seems almost too wild to believe. I mean, another universe? Is it possible that we simply got thrown someplace where certain stars resemble the ones at home?"

"I know how you feel," Jon said. "But the stellar fingerprinting is pretty conclusive. That is Sol, and that's Epsilon Eridani, and that's Sigma Draconis. In terms of position we're right where we should be."

"But we're not."

Jon glanced to Travis as the Ensign spoke, and after a moments pause said, "No."

He looked again to Trip. "You have any ideas about this?"

The engineer gave a helpless laugh. "Cap'n, this level of Quantum and Astrophysics is way out of my field. I mean I've heard multi-universe theories, but nothing that would explain how we got here. Maybe the Vulcans…" He trailed off with a shrug.

Jon nodded. That was about what he had expected. He took a deep breath and said, "Well, when I joined Starfleet the poster did say, "To go where no man has gone before. I just never expected quite this far. What's the repair status Trip?"

"Most of the main systems are up, except warp drive, warp core, and long range sensors. The torpedo system is pretty much gutted from the explosion, but in another few days we should have the Phase cannons back online."

"Could you make use of anything from the Shirasna?"

Trip nodded slowly. "Yeah, It would make a lot of the repairs go faster, but compatibility might be an issue in some cases."

Jon was silent a moment, then said, "Take an engineering team and a couple shuttle pods over. Take what you need. And do an inventory on what's there."

"Yes sir."

  


***

  


Jon jerked his attention back to the computer screen, but after a few moments found his focus had wandered again to that alien knot of sensation in the back of his mind. It shivered again and he felt a sense of sharpening, and a nebulous ripple of emotion moved out from it. 

T'Pol seemed to be getting increasingly restless. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, if it was this hard for him to concentrate when she was unconscious, what would it be like when she was awake?

He shook off the thought and doggedly returned his attention to the screen just before the door chime sounded.

"Enter."

The door swished open and a tired looking Trip stepped through. "Cap'n." 

Jon gestured from him to take a seat and asked, "How is it over there?"

Sitting down Trip took a deep breath and then blew it out. "A tomb." There was a haunted look in his eyes as he continued. "They all pretty much dropped where they stood. We've been placing the bodies in the main cargo bay."

He looked at Trip silently as the man stared blankly at the bulkhead. Then he took his empty coffee mug from the desk and filled it from the pot Chef had sent up. Standing and moving round the desk he then held it out to Trip.

Trip stared at it for a moment as if he couldn't figure out what it was. Then, blinking, he seemed to focus on it more clearly and he took the mug.

"Thanks."

Jon watched him silently as he sipped it. Nearly a minute passed as he waited for Trip to regain his equilibrium. The man's voice was soft when he finally did speak. 

"Ya' know, I would'a given a whole lot to get a look at the insides of those engines. But not like this."

"I know, Trip. I know."

The silence returned for a moment then Trip shook himself. Looking up at Jon he said, "We should be able to substitute many of the Vulcan components for the ones we're missing. They did help us refine a lot of our own systems after all." He paused for a moment and then said, "It would go a lot faster if we had T'Pol's help."

Jon said, "Phlox says she should be waking up any time now." He rubbed the back of his head. "And judging from how restless she's getting I'd have to agree."

Trip sat up straighter, looking at him, and said, "Yeah, the doc said you were able to sense her. How does that work exactly?"

Jon shoved down his discomfort at the topic. If it would distract Trip from the stuff on the Vulcan ship… "I'm not sure I can describe it. English just doesn't have words that express what it feels like. There are a bunch of places in here now that aren't me. I mean I feel the things she does as if it were me, but at the same time I'm aware it's not." He broke off and rubbed the back of his head again. "Sorry, I'm not explaining it well."

"It's all right. I think I get it. You, basically, feel what she does? Like an echo or somethin'?"

"Not really, and yet sort of."

"Huh," Trip said. After a moment of silence a slight smile crept onto his face. "So, Vulcans have emotions after all?"

Jon shook his head. "I'll talk about how I feel something Trip, but not about what I feel from her. I think you can understand why."

Trip paused, seemingly brought up short, and then said, "Your right. It's like having access to a whole lot of real personal information about someone: you wouldn't want to be blabbing about it."

"Pretty much, it-"

The world suddenly wavered. 

Disorientation. Confusion: a sudden return of awareness, a sense of fundamental change. Another presence intertwined with her mind: uncontrolled, undisciplined, emotional, and yet supporting. 

"Jon!"

Jon yanked himself away from of the suddenly overwhelming mind within his own. To find that he was being held up by a very worried Trip. Taking a deep breath he said, "T'Pol's awake."

  


***

  


Jon paused just outside of sickbay, bracing himself. T'Pol was aware he was here. He could feel it. It was the oddest sensation: not just to know, but to feel what another person did. If he'd thought she had been distracting when he was unconscious, with her awake it had gotten ten times worse. Unconscious she had been a vague collection of formless impressions, and feelings. Awake her mind was vibrant, active, and impossible to ignore. 

It was layered, a crystalline structure of logic, control, and order. But underneath that he could sense emotions. Like the shift and pull of tides. At the most fundamental of levels they were there, but suborned to the crystal perfection of her mind and will. They gave her being force, but the logic provided structure, purpose.

Right now he could feel an upset in the harmony of her mind. The crystal had been damaged, and was flawed with cracks. Her equilibrium was unbalanced both by the trauma her body had endured, and by the fact that she had awakened to find herself, quite unexpectedly, connected with another being in the most intimate of ways.

He took a deep breath and then stepped forward. And the doors swished open before him.

  


***

  


T'Pol focused on her breathing and kept herself in a near-meditative state. It was far more difficult than it would normally have been. The Captain's presence permeating her mind brought instability to its painstakingly achieved order.

She had been aware that humans were illogical and undisciplined of mind, but she truly had not understood. Nervousness, worry, uncertainty, fear, even a touch of wonder all flickered through her mind. Only they were not hers, they were his. Yet they affected her much as if their genesis had been in her own mind. Such was the effect of the bond, and the danger of bonding with a non-Vulcan.

It had been done before. But in the more than two and a half millennia of contact with other intelligent species the number of times were a bare handful. Such unions could be hazardous to both the Vulcan and the other. If she had been fully cognizant she might not have agreed to-

She terminated that line of thought. It was done. She would have to deal with whatever came of it. 

She sensed the firming of his resolve a moment before Sickbay's doors opened. 

"Ah, Captain." Doctor Phlox greeted the arrival. "I was just about to contact you. But of course you're already aware that T'Pol is awake, yes?"

"Yes, Doctor. Quite aware."

T'Pol could feel his regard and opened her eyes, turning her head slightly, to return it.

"How are you-" He broke off shaking his head. "No, I already know the answer to that." 

"Perhaps you should continue to converse as you normally would, Captain." She suggested. "It might seem redundant, but it would give you an element of familiarity in an unfamiliar process."

She felt him consider that for a moment before he nodded. "Sound advice." He chuckled. "Though it is going to feel a little odd."

T'Pol suppressed the discomfort as his flicker of amusement brushed over the damaged portions of her psyche.

He looked at her sharply as he caught it and said, "Sorry." And then, "But don't worry, you won't have to put up with me once Doctor Phlox thinks your nervous system has recovered enough to stand on it's own…"

He trailed off as he saw the expression on Phlox's face.

T'Pol braced herself for the emotional response she was about to endure. Doctor Phlox had discussed his findings with her before the Captain had come to sickbay.

"Captain," the doctor started hesitantly. "We have a bit of a problem."

Archer looked from Phlox to her and back. The sense of him was filled with trepidation. "What kind of problem?"

Doctor Phlox glanced once at her and then said, "From the data I have been amassing on what has happened to T'Pol severing the bond would be extremely detrimental."

"What are you saying?"

"I have come to the conclusion that there was nothing wrong with T'Pol in the first place. Her nervous system is functioning exactly as it should. It is the environment that is causing the problem. There is some factor having to do with wherever it is that we are that is inimical to the functioning of the Vulcan nervous system. I have been unable to isolate exactly what that factor is."

"It is unlikely that you will be able to Doctor." T'Pol could feel the growing dismay in the Captain. "If we are indeed in another universe, as you tell me the crew has surmised, then the problem may be a subtle difference in the quantum physics of this universe. The Vulcan brain is more dependent upon those effects than the human."

Phlox absorbed that silently for a moment and then, turning again to the Captain, said, "If that is the case, then there is nothing more I can do. If we sever the bond it will mean T'Pol's death."

He turned away from them both and took a couple steps. T'Pol closed her eyes, trying to keep her equilibrium against the sudden surge of feelings. She turned completely inward as her control began to fracture, blotting out awareness of anything but what seethed blow her mind's veneer of logic. After a moment the emotions subsided and it became easier. 

When she was certain of her mastery again she returned her attention outward. The Captain's sense radiated a carefully muted concern. She could feel his attention on her, but his emotions were being brutally suppressed. He had apparently figured out what his response had been doing to her.

She opened her eyes to find Phlox observing the readings on a medical scanner.

This was not acceptable. She needed time and space to meditate, to reacquire some kind of equilibrium. 

Doctor Phlox's voice was careful as he asked, "Are you all right, Sub-Commander?" 

"Physically, I'm fine, Doctor. Mentally however I will need time to recover, but given the current situation, that will be-" she met the Captain's gaze. "Difficult. We will need to have a long discussion at some point in the near future, Captain." 

He nodded. "That's a given." Looking at the Doctor he asked, "When will she be able to return to duty?"

Phlox was silent for several seconds. "I want to keep her here for another day at least. Then she can return to her quarters. After that, considering the situation, I will permit light duty, but light duty only until further notice."

  


***

  


Jon pressed the chime on the door to T'Pol's quarters. It had been nearly a week since she'd woken up. He'd put off this meeting as long as possible, partially in deference to letting T'Pol heal and partially from his own discomfort. He was still trying work out how he felt about all this, and that in turn wasn't helping T'Pol. There was also the small matter of him having a hard time concentrating. He had the impression that she was making an effort to be as unobtrusive as possible, but the fact of the matter was that he was getting distracted when he shouldn't, and he couldn't put off dealing with it any longer.

"Enter." 

He started to reach for the door control an instant before he realized that he hadn't actually heard that. It had been a flash of something between an image and a feeling that his mind had interpreted as T'Pol saying "Enter". Drawing a deep breath he opened the door.

The inside of her quarters was dark, illumined only by several candles. She was sitting cross-legged in the middle of the room. He could tell that she was near the end of whatever type of meditation she was doing. Her mind felt… peaceful. He concentrated more fully on her and…

Stillness, cold, the soft sound-absorbing silence of falling snow, the song of wind shivering over ice crystals…

The impressions faded and he realized her eyes were now open and looking at him. 

"What…what was that?"

Her head cocked slightly to the side before she replied, "Many forms of meditation involve visualization of vistas with specific connotations: still water, or a pleasant scene. The one I was using was a place on Vulcan I visited as a child."

He contemplated the images for a moment. "I always thought of Vulcan as too hot to have snow."

"The temperature on Vulcan varies quite drastically from night to day. The nighttime temperatures can reach well below freezing. But in the mountains of the polar region there is considerable accumulation of ice."

"Ah," he said and then fell silent. He wasn't sure how to start. 

T'Pol Regarded him silently from her position of the floor. He met her gaze. She felt better, not entirely, but the working of her mind felt… smoother. Her emotions weren't as close to the surface. He'd never felt anything like that upsurge of emotion from her in sickbay. It had been volcanic. She had always been so unemotional and controlled that it was hard to reconcile what he had felt with her behavior.

"That is Vulcan nature."

Her words took him by surprise; she seemed to be answering his thoughts. "Can you…" He gestured to his head.

"I do not perceive your individual thoughts, at least not at this point, but I do sense generalities." She gave a slight shrug. "From there it is easy to deduce."

He took another deep breath and shifted uncomfortably, feeling exposed. 

"I am not certain how the bond will develop in a human, so I may only give you guidance as it happens, and show you techniques to deal with commonly does." She hesitated, and looking down, said, "I am sorry."

"Sorry? T'Pol you have nothing to be sorry for. Nothing here has been your fault. In fact all of this has been a lot harder on you than me."

"At the current time," she said, not lifting her gaze from where it rested on her hands in her lap. 

He stared at her. Underneath the calm there was an emotion roiling. It took him a moment to identify it: she felt ashamed. Why…

A thought occurred to him and he asked, quietly, "Vulcan nature?"

Her eyes came up to meet his.

"Vulcan psychology and biology are both involved. The intensity of the bond we now share is not invoked except under certain circumstances."

She fell silent and he waited. T'Pol was obviously struggling with telling him whatever it was she trying to. 

"How much of Vulcan history are you aware of?"

Taken a little off guard it was a moment before he answered, "Not much. I'm aware of a few major events, like Surak. That was what? A couple thousand years ago."

She nodded and said, "Our recorded history that we are aware of, if at times only in fragments, encompasses over one hundred and ten thousand years."

One hundred… He stared at her. After a moment he sunk into a cross-legged position on the floor across the candle from her. "I have the feeling this is going to take a while."

As she began to speak he listened to her, fascinated, not just with her words but her. Beneath her expressionless face he could feel her thoughts moving like quicksilver. Constant, never still. And beneath that he occasionally felt the stir of various emotions, all quickly controlled. 

"Our world was once what humans would likely describe as a lush paradise. That ended when our star became unstable and flared. The resulting heat and radiation seared the surface of the planet, boiling off the oceans and killing ninety-nine percent of all life. Were you to visit Vulcan today you would observe that many of the mountaintops were melted by the intensity of the event."

"How did your people survive?"

"In caves far beneath the surface. It was generations before the environment recovered to the point where existence upon the surface was possible for us. When my race emerged upon the surface it was to find a world much changed. It was a world hard, brutal, and unforgiving. The intensity of the environment encouraged a certain speed in evolution, for if a species did not evolve it would perish."

In the midst of a pause he asked, "That's the reason why Vulcans tend to be stranger, faster, and smarter than humans? There was some debate about that on Earth. The actual physical characteristics of Vulcans didn't match the projections from the environmental profile."

She raised an eyebrow at him.

"There was a study done about thirty years ago," he explained. "The actual capacities of Vulcans didn't match what the biologists said they should. And your people weren't very forthcoming."

"That would be part of the reason, yes."

"Part?"

"Not only did my people fight against the environment but also each other. Resources were scarce, and competition for them was bloody. Those children that exhibited the most desirable qualities were the ones that were allowed to pass those on to latter generations."

He processed that, a bit taken back. "Eugenics?"

"Essentially, but far more draconian than any that has been practiced on Earth. And it continued far longer than your entire recorded history. The teachings of Surak caused the abandonment of such practices, but its effects remain."

"I assume you're talking about more than just the physical development."

"Yes. Some of the qualities that were highly prized were the Mind Sciences."

"Mind Sciences? Like mind melds?"

"Yes. That is one of the gifts. There are ones that are more common and others that are rare. A gift that was most highly valued was the ability to sense the presence of water, later the ability to find metals, neither of which were abundant. All Vulcans are telepathic in some measure."

"But those with the ability to mind meld have been persecuted."

"There are other…gifts that were persecuted, and coveted, far more." She hesitated. And he felt uncertainty in her, as if she was unsure about revealing something to him. But she continued, saying, "One such was the Killing Gift."

That didn't sound pleasant. She confirmed his thoughts a moment later.

There were some few Vulcans that found the ability to kill another with thought alone. First to kill a single person and then, as the ability was refined and inbred, more. Until at last, the strongest of these gifts could kill an entire city a continent away, though he would die in the doing of it. But even as they developed it the gift grew rarer. I know of no one who has possessed it in many centuries."

She was silent again, and Jon looked down at the candle between them for a moment then up at her. "Okay, but what does all this have to do with our current situation?"

"During the millennia of refining these gifts the genetics of it all were not fully understood. During this process less desirable traits were bred into and spread throughout the population. We have always been a passionate people, but what the breeding programs did was take this to an unhealthy extreme. Think of it as having a bipolar disorder that affected all emotions: rage, calm, happiness, sadness; they are all there but when they come they are dangerously intense."

Jon considered the one time he had seen a Vulcan angry and he absently rubbed the spot where the bruise had been after he'd been thrown across the room.

When he regained eye contact with T'Pol she said, "We nearly destroyed ourselves. Only Surak saved us from self-annihilation. He gave us the tools to control this thing we had created."

He said a single word that he knew she would understand, "Sickbay?"

She nodded. "Yes. Due to the circumstances my control was already tenuous and the added stress of your distress deteriorated it further. That is another fact you should be aware of is that due to the bond I am not immediately objective when it comes to you"

"How so?"

"This bond is a stronger form of what is generally used in a marriage ceremony."

Oh. "So by Vulcan law we…"

"Traditionally, we could be considered married. However due to the medical nature and lack of cognizance during the bond's formation it would likely not be taken that way."

"All right, how would this affect your judgment?"

"While we are not necessarily married by social custom my subconscious and body do not recognize the distinction. The Vulcan marriage is not merely a matter of social custom as it is on Earth, but biology. There are certain sets of instincts that go with the formation of a bond such as this and while instincts may be suppressed, they are nevertheless there."

Okay, he needed to think about that for a while. She was taking the time to tell him this and, judging from what she was feeling, it was making her quite uncomfortable so there must be a good reason. "Will this impair your ability to function as my second in command?"

"It should not, however it is a fact you should be aware of. As is-"

The communicator bleeped. "Captain Archer?"

Jon glanced from it to T'Pol and said, "We'll continue this later."

He stood and moved to the communicator. "Archer here."

"Sir," Hoshi's voice came through. "There is something I need to show you."

"Alright, I'll be right there." He glanced once at T'Pol and exited.

  


***

  


T'Pol glided to her feet as the captain left. It was time she returned to bridge duty; Doctor Phlox had approved several hours a day at her station. He was being cautious, but considering the situation, that was only appropriate.

She removed a heavier outer shirt from her closet and turned to put out the candles. A faint feeling of pressure gusted through her. The flames flickered and died on the wicks.

She automatically muted her startled response and froze, examining the sensation. After a moment she concluded that it hadn't been external. She'd done that. 

Stepping to the desk, she relit a candle. Staring at it she tried to reproduce the previous sensation. It was surprisingly easy, and the candle flickered and died. 

A wisp of smoke rose from the wick and she stared silently at it, turning what she had just done over in her mind. She knew of Vulcans that had the ability to manipulate things by thought. 

However, she had never been one of them. 

  


***

  


Jon arrived on the bridge. Nodding to Malcolm and Travis at their stations he turned toward Hoshi. She was hunched over her console, earpiece in one ear, and she was apparently concentrating hard on something.

As he stepped up next to her she glanced up at him with a distracted expression on her face and said, "Could you give me just a moment sir?"

He nodded at her and leaned against the railing to wait. A couple minutes passed and he was about to nudge Hoshi for and explanation when the lift doors opened.

T'Pol stepped onto the bridge.

A smile appeared on Malcolm's face as he said, "Sub-Commander."

T'Pol looked around the bridge, meeting Malcolm and Travis's gazes, and nodded to each.

"Lieutenant. Ensign."

She met Jon's eyes as she sat at her station. Even after she looked down at her console he continued to look at her. Odd, the sense of her was almost uncertain. Something had disturbed her after he'd left her quarters.

"Sorry, sir." Hoshi said. "I just needed to makes sure I had that right."

"What right?"

"I think I've found the missing interstellar communications. You see we were looking for subspace signals. And there aren't any, because they're using tachyons." 

"You're, sure?"

"Yes, sir. These tachyon bursts are definitely some kind of faster than light communication."

He glanced toward the science station. "T'Pol?"

She looked up from the display and said, "It looks as if the tachyon frequency is being modulated to encode messages. The sensors are detecting many such signals. Fascinating."

Jon glanced down at Hoshi and smiled. She grinned back, no doubt as relieved as he was to hear T'Pol's expressions once again. "What is?"

"Subspace communication is preferred over methods such as this in our universe due to the fact that developments in subspace technology necessary for interstellar travel make it far more efficient to use for communication. The fact that we are seeing the use of tychon's for this purpose added to the lack of subspace activity indicates that there is some other method of faster than light travel. And it leads me to wonder why it was developed instead of subspace."

Lieutenant Reed spoke up from his station and said, "That could be either good or bad, sir. Tactically speaking. We don't know what anyone here uses, but they probably won't know what to make of a warp drive."

"It would be advantageous, T'Pol said, "To regain the use of long range sensors so that we could make observations of any nearby civilizations."

Jon nodded and activated the comm on Hoshi's console. "Bridge to engineering."

After a moment Trip's voice came over the speaker. "Capt'n?"

"Trip, could you give me an estimate on how long till we have long range sensors back online?"

"It'll be a few more days, sir. That system was hit pretty hard and we're havin' to scrounge what we can from the Shirasna."

"All right, Trip. Keep me posted."

"Yes, sir."

He glanced from Hoshi to T'Pol and said, "Well, a few more days for that. So, in the meantime, Hoshi."

"Yes, sir?"

"See what you can make of the transmissions. They may give us some idea of what the situation is and maybe a way to contact home. Home here, anyway."

He moved over to the science station as Hoshi bent over her console. "T'Pol, how's the research going?"

"I have been unable to find any information of use in the Shirasna's database. There is no record of any Vulcan ship that has experienced a similar occurrence."

He sighed. "I was afraid of that."

T'Pol lowered her voice and, glancing at Hoshi said, "Have you considered the fact that neither Earth or Vulcan may exist in this universe?"

"Yes," he said, his voice equally low. "But we'll deal with that as it comes."

  


***

  


The fine grain sand blew upon the wind, swept up on eddies and vortices, it got into every fold and crevasse of clothing. The air was dry, dry enough to suck the moisture from unprotected flesh. The reddish light of the sun, moving upward as day ended, left the desert sands in shadow and touched the sides of mount Sulaya with crimson. 

He looked upward at the mountain towering endlessly above him, his eyes picking out the narrow path as it wound across the worn rock. He needed to hurry; with the fall of darkness many of the larger predators were already stirring. In fact he could hear the faint call of a Seyat from the canyons at the mountains base. 

Breep.

He frowned.

Breep.

Jon pulled himself out of sleep at the sound of the comm. He paused half sitting, disoriented. He'd been dreaming of Vulcan. Vividly. Why had he been dreaming of Vulcan?"

A restless ripple went through him, an echo of another sleeping mind. Ah. T'Pol had been dreaming of Vulcan. Apparently he'd been along for the ride.

Breep.

The comm. continued to try for his attention and he filed the dream away with the collection of other questions he needed to ask T'Pol. He'd give it a couple days; he was still trying to digest Pon Farr.

He hit the button on the comm. "Yes?"

Lieutenant Reed's voice came through. "Sorry to disturb you, sir. But we've cracked the tachyon communications."

The last couple days Reed and Hoshi, with some help from T'Pol, had been working overtime on figuring out the tachyon bursts.

"Good job, Lieutenant." He rubbed a hand over his face. "But I assume there is more to it than that or else this could have waited till morning."

"Sir," Reed halted.

He'd never heard that tone in Malcom's voice. Suddenly he was wide awake. "Lieutenant?"

"Sir, Earth does exist in this universe. But it may not for much longer. They're being exterminated."


	3. Chapter 3

No Beast so Fierce.  
Chapter 3  
By Verbosity  
  
Disclaimer: I own neither set of characters and I do not make profit from this little literary exercise.  
  
Rating: PG 13 Category: Crossover. Babylon 5/ Star Trek: Enterprise.  
  
Jon, Malcolm, Trip, T'Pol and Hoshi were gathered around the display table at the rear of the bridge.  
  
The doors to the bridge hissed open and Travis darted through. "Sorry, sir."  
  
Jon nodded and turned his attention to Malcolm. "Alright, Malcolm. Tell us what's going on."  
  
"The communication channels are extremely busy, so we've managed to accumulate a fair amount of data." He tapped a few buttons on the console and brought up a picture on the display. "Thanks to several general broadcasts we have fair idea of the borders and the major races in this area. The Centauri, Narn, something called the League of Non-Aligned Worlds, the Minbari and Humans."  
  
Jon pointed to a blank section of the chart. "What's that?"  
  
"Something referred to as the Vorlon Empire."  
  
"Where in there?" Trip asked. "That's a lot of space."  
  
"Ah," Malcolm hesitated. "All of it, sir."  
  
Everyone stared at him. "All of it?"  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
That's gotta be a hundreds of light-years across-"  
  
"It extends off the chart."  
  
Trip looked at the chart, then at Malcolm, and then back at the chart. "Please tell me that they're not the one's Earth is havin' problems with."  
  
"No," Malcolm said. Reaching out he narrowed the focus of the chart. "That would be the Minbari. Which by most accounts is almost as bad. The Minbari are one of the older races in the area. They've apparently been in space for more than a thousand years. We haven't been able to nail down exactly how long. But considering Humans have been in space less than three hundred years."  
  
Jon stopped him. "Three hundred?"  
  
Hoshi said, "Yes, sir. The year in this universe is 2247."  
  
"Dimensional travel and time travel," Trip said. "Great."  
  
Jon looked at T'Pol. She was staring at the chart and he could sense her mind turning over the new information.  
  
"Sir, the Minbari are much more advanced than Earth." He paused and then started again. "Apparently the problem happened during first contact. An Earth ship opened fire on a Minbari vessel."  
  
Jon grimaced at the thought; first contact situations were touchy at best, but he'd managed to avoid shooting anyone. So far.  
  
Malcolm went on. "The Minbari went berserk and, moving inward, began to systematically eliminate human colonies. They may have had some justification at first, sir. But all this is now is slaughter. Considering the technology differences. Well, it's like us trying to fight the Vulcans. And, unfortunately," he tapped a point on the screen. "This is where we are."  
  
The point was in Minbari space. Not within light-years of any systems, but well within their claimed territory.  
  
"And, if a Minbari ship were to come across us," Travis asked. "Then they'd shoot first and ask questions later?"  
  
Malcolm nodded. "That's what it looks like Ensign."  
  
"Malcolm," Jon said. "What does the technological situation look like? Who are we ahead of, who are we behind?"  
  
"It's a little hard to tell from news reports and broadcasts sir, but I'd have to say we're ahead of Earth, in spite of their time advantage. But, I believe we're behind the Minbari. As to the other races, I don't have enough information to tell. Technology levels seem to vary pretty widely."  
  
Jon stood silently staring down at the star chart. Command school had never included a situation quite like this. He looked back up and moved his gaze from face to face. They looked back at him with varying expressions. This was his crew; whatever else was happening out there his first priority was them.  
  
"All right people. Here's what we're going to do. Malcolm, Hoshi, keep gathering information. Malcolm, I want tactical analysis. Hoshi, compile information on the various races. Trip, when are those long range sensors back online?"  
  
"Should be tomorrow."  
  
"Good. Up to this point you've been doing repairs." Jon looked from Trip to T'Pol. "Can we upgrade our systems from the Shirasna? Not just repair but bring them up to a Vulcan grade of operation?"  
  
The two exchanged a look.  
  
Trip said, "From what I've seen so far? More or less."  
  
"Without a Vulcan technology base to support them many of the systems would not operate as efficiently," T'Pol said. "And there are systems that would not be compatible with ours. But they would be considerably more effective than Human."  
  
"Any improvement is good. Get to it."  
  
* * *  
  
Jon looked over the reports. T'Pol's constant presence in his mind was a muted hum. It had been getting easier, over the last two weeks. Part of it was that he was just getting used to it, his mind was settling into shape around hers. But he'd also been utilizing the management techniques she'd shown him. Meditation was quite a departure from his normal routine.  
  
Trip and T'Pol had been working extravagantly, with engineering shifts around the clock. According to their latest report they had upgraded the warp core and, in fact, the entire warp system. Trip was betting they could top warp six point three. The enhanced reactor meant more power available for other systems, which was good, because the modified phasers were power hogs, to say nothing of the enhanced hull plating. The plating utilized so much power that it couldn't be run at maximum while the warp drive was engaged. But even at a lower power level it was still stronger that the original system. They'd used some of the Shirasna's force field generators to reinforce the plating after concluding that generating full deflector shields was beyond the power range of the Enterprise's reactors.  
  
The long-range sensors had revealed a wealth of information. The Minbari had a large Federation, filled with multiple colony worlds and even some other races here and there. Their interstellar drive was based upon hyperspace. At least that's what the broadcasts said. The Enterprises sensors lost track of their ships as soon as they entered those energy vortices. The method of travel bypassed normal space entirely, rather than modifying it as warp drive did. Due to the distances involved the sensors, even enhanced as they were, were unable to resolve much about the Minbari's ships and technology.  
  
The door chime sounded and pulled his attention away from the screen.  
  
"Enter."  
  
Trip stepped through the door. "Capt'n, we're about ready to test the warp drive."  
  
"Good. I'd like to start moving within the week."  
  
"I'm pretty sure we can manage that."  
  
Seeing the expression on Trips face he asked, "Is there something else?"  
  
"Yeah," Trip's voce was tinged with excitement as he said, "Looking over the Vulcan systems something I had been working on earlier came to mind. You know the cloaking device on the Suliban cell ship?"  
  
He felt his eyebrows shoot up. "Can you get that to work?"  
  
"Not exactly. With some materials from the Vulcan ship I can put together a sorta partial version. More like a stealth field than a cloaking device. We wouldn't be invisible but, to active sensors we would simply be a hole in space, much harder to target. No energy emissions, nada."  
  
Jon thought about it for a few seconds and then asked, "It wouldn't detract from the essential projects?"  
  
"Not a bit. I just have to set up the field generator. And the energy requirement is minimal; depending on how it works out it could actually be a net energy generator. I could probably hook it in with the same circuit as life support."  
  
"Do it. Like I said before, any advantage is good."  
  
* * *  
  
T'Pol walked through the echoing corridors of the Shirasna. The ship was little more than a collection of parts; the Enterprise engineering teams having stripped away everything they could use. The corridors were empty now, the teams having returned to the Enterprise, their tasks complete.  
  
She stopped in front of the cargo bay doors and, reaching out, keyed the lock. The doors pulled open and ice-cold air rolled over her. The lights turned on as she stepped forward, the doors closing behind her, illuminating the rows of still figures that were laid out with careful precision.  
  
Her people.  
  
Two hundred and forty six Vulcans who would never return to their home, their katra's consigned to the winds.  
  
"Ke'l ta'reh selya, Sulaya."  
  
Her words echoed in the bay and fell into silence in the shadowed corners. The stillness stretched on and she found herself irrationally reluctant to leave, the shades in this room were her only connection to home. To leave would be to be alone in this universe, a single Vulcan without a people.  
  
The bond tugged at her. Pulling her away from her dead kinsmen, back toward life. Captain Archer. Jonathan. The being she was now joined to, weather she wished or not.  
  
The doors opened again her, but she didn't need to look. Strange. She hadn't sensed that he was on the ship.  
  
The Captain stepped up beside her. He stood in silence for long seconds, his gaze moving over the forms that occupied the floor. After a moment he spoke softly, saying, "The charges have been set. Everything is ready."  
  
She nodded.  
  
He was quiet for another moment, she could feel his sympathy, then he said, "Take as long as you need." He stepped away and left the room.  
  
* * *  
  
The view screen sowed the Shirasna floating at rest as Enterprise moved away. Jon knew the screens around the ship were showing the same view.  
  
Malcolm suddenly spoke up from his station. "Five thousand kilometers, sir."  
  
Jon nodded, acknowledging that. Taking a deep breath he hit the general address button on the com and began to speak. "Humans have thought many things of the Vulcans over the century we have known them. We have, at times thought that they were irritating or condescending, at times we have thought that they were holding us back." He turned his head to look at T'pol as she sat at her station regarding him. "But one thing we have never doubted, is their good will. They are a people concerned with the good of others. Caught up in our emotion over them we often forgot that they never had to help us. They never had to assist us in pulling out of the chaos and destruction of the Third World War. They never had to introduce us to the many races that lived in the universe around us. But they did. And they continued to try and watch over us, to keep us from harm, even as we stepped out into that universe.  
  
He paused her for a long moment and looked at the Shirasna drifting in space. "The crew of the Shirasna is dead. In circumstances neither we nor they could control. But even in death they have helped us. So let us honor that assistance. By surviving, by living to find a way home, and taking their memory back to their people."  
  
He fully faced the screen and stood at attention, the bridge crew followed his example. He regarded the ship on the screen for a long moment and then said, "T'Pol."  
  
His sense of her was muted, her emotions carefully suppressed. She said, "Mr. Reed, fire."  
  
The single photon torpedo streaked outward. It impacted the hull of the Shirasna in precisely the planned spot, as it bloomed into eye-searing brilliance the planted internal charges detonated and the ship dissolved into an expanding fireball.  
  
Jon remained at attention until all that remained was bits of debris and traces of plasma then he turned back to his crew and said, "All right people. Let get on our way."  
  
* * *  
  
Jon stared out the porthole at the illusory streaking of the stars. It gave a feeling of swift motion to the ship that, even at the multiples of light it was traveling, was relatively stationary with respect to those distant lights. Taking his gaze from the distance he focused on the curve of the hull. The normal gray tones were gone, replaced with a dark charcoal color. It wasn't paint, exactly, it was a part of the hull plating upgrades that Trip and T'Pol had come up with. It was a conduction material that had been magnetically worked into the hull surface. It helped to contain the fields created by the new generator integrated into the hull plating. The result was a force field that was contained within the physical structure of the plating itself. It was a fair bit stronger than the standard polarized plating.  
  
They had not had the opportunity to repaint the numerical designation and name of the ship on the hull. At the moment it was devoid of any markings. He was debating keeping it that way for now. Given their situation he felt it might be best to remain unidentified by anyone who came across them, human or otherwise, at least until they were certain of their relations. But he knew they would have to get help from someone eventually.  
  
His attention was drawn to T'Pol. Her mind had become abruptly focused, as if she were concentrating intently upon something. He had been able to deal with her presence on a day-to-day basis, but whenever there was some shift in her mental state he found his attention drawn to it.  
  
He'd inquired if she experienced something similar. She told him that, yes, she did, but that the Vulcan brain was functionally different and was able to multi-task much more easily. So it wasn't distracting in the same manner to her as it was to him. However, what did disrupt her equilibrium were his emotions. She had been trained all her life to control hers but he hadn't, and now she had to deal with his while having no control over them. It was a situation, she'd confessed, that she often found uncomfortable.  
  
He sighed, turning away from the view port. They were having to learn to live with each other. She was doing a lot of extra meditating. Meditations he was having to learn.  
  
Something had been nagging him about her behavior recently. Her response to him had changed subtly. He was still trying to figure exactly what it was, but it was definitely there. Just not in public. In view of the crew she didn't give a single indication that the bond existed.  
  
She had said something about instincts involved in the formation of the bond, but she hadn't been specific. He'd have to talk to her about it again soon.  
  
He suddenly realized that her attention had turned to him. That was something he'd been coming to recognize of late; her mind felt subtly different when it was focused on him.  
  
A moment later the com sounded, "T'Pol to Archer."  
  
He answered it. "Archer here."  
  
"Captain, would you come to the bridge?"  
  
"I'll be right there."  
  
He exited the office, stepping out onto the bridge. T'Pol rose from the central chair and said, "We are passing within a light-year of one of the Minbari's colonies. We are, by all indications well out of their sensor range, but close enough for us to obtain high-resolution subspace scans."  
  
"Will they pick it up?"  
  
She indicated negative. "I do not believe so. Or at most they will detect a small non-localized energy surge of indeterminate origin. Without knowledge of subspace science and technology they should be unable to ascertain what it is or where it is coming from."  
  
He glanced over to Malcolm who was waiting expectantly. "Do it."  
  
Malcolm turned his attention to the console, and as Jon took his seat T'Pol returned to the science station and began to analyze the readings herself.  
  
He waited quietly as his two officers scanned and analyzed. As the minutes passed he got to his feet and began to pace around the bridge. Stopping by Hoshi he asked, "What kind of communications are you picking up?"  
  
She looked up at him saying, "Basic chatter mostly. I've been working out their language structures. They've got several."  
  
"The three castes you mentioned in your report?"  
  
"Even more languages than that sir, but those are the main three used. Most of the traffic I can hear is in one of the three."  
  
"That you can pick up?"  
  
"Well, the tachyon bursts are pretty directional, so were probably not picking up a lot of them. And then there are the military communications. Those are encrypted. Malcolm and I haven't been able to crack them. We- whoa!"  
  
He started at her exclamation. "What?"  
  
He hand was holding her earpiece firmly against her ear as she said, "There's been a sudden burst of encrypted traffic."  
  
T'Pol, suddenly, spoke. "I am picking up the formation of a spatial anomaly in the inner solar system. It appears to be what they term a "jump point". I am putting it on screen."  
  
Jon turned toward the view screen. The system wasn't actually in visual range, but the computer could approximate images from the sensor readings.  
  
A circular rift had formed in space, a couple thousand meters across, and as they watched ships began to emerge.  
  
"Good lord," Malcolm said. "Those are monsters."  
  
The ships emerging from the rift were titanic, multiple vessels more than fifteen hundred meters long. The single largest vessel was in the center of the group, surrounded by four slightly smaller ones of the same design. Other smaller ships accompanied the larger vessels, probably support ships of some kind.  
  
"They look like angelfish," Travis said.  
  
Hoshi glanced at him from her station and said, "Judging from the previous transmissions these are Sharlin class war cruisers. But the one in the middle looks like it has several differences."  
  
Jon looked away from the screen and said, "Malcolm, T'Pol see what you can pick up about them. I want to know their capabilities: defense, weapons, propulsion, everything. And Malcolm, compare it to the data you've already put together from the broadcasts."  
  
"Aye, Sir." 


	4. Chapter 4

No Beast so Fierce  
Chapter 4  
By Verbosity  
  
Delenn of Mir stared out the window of her rooms aboard the Valen'na. She gazed absently out over the planet below, her mind mulling over the revelations of the Vorlons. When Lenonn had suggested that she visit Dhukat's sacred place she had thought he simply had a sort of pilgrimage in mind for her. Discovering the two Vorlon's there had been shocking. What they had revealed to her, even more so.  
  
The humans were supposed to be their allies against the coming darkness. The Vorlons had said that they would be key to the approaching conflict with the Ancient Enemy. And here her people were: exterminating them.  
  
It must cease. The war had to end. But how? There was so much rage. So much momentum to this avalanche of blood and destruction that she had started, and no longer knew how to stop.  
  
She turned away from the window and walked slowly and thoughtfully out of her chambers. Head bowed and hands clasped behind her she paced slowly along the corridors, oblivious to the respectful gestures her passing evoked from the crew.  
  
The murmur of voices washed over her, but something in the tone of the conversation drew her attention outward once again. Looking up she recognized the Captain of the ship speaking to one of the crewmembers.  
  
"Captain?"  
  
The man turned his attention to her and bowed respectfully, as did the crewmember. "Satai?" he said.  
  
"What is happening?"  
  
He hesitated for a moment and said, "We are not certain. Our sensors are detecting a faint energy flux, throughout the ship but we are unable to determine a source."  
  
* * *  
  
"Captain. I believe the Minbari have detected our scans."  
  
Jon turned to T'Pol as she spoke. "Are you sure?"  
  
She raised an eyebrow at his question and said, "As certain as I can be dealing with an unknown race. Their sensors have become more active and they are scanning the area."  
  
"Do they show any capability of detecting us?"  
  
"No. While the scans are quite powerful they are non-supraluminal. They cannot register our presence at this distance."  
  
Jon nodded and looked from T'Pol to Malcolm. "Have the two of you completed your scans?"  
  
The two glanced at one another and T'Pol said, "Yes."  
  
"All right. Travis, put us back on course in Earth's general direction."  
  
"Aye, Sir."  
  
Jon stood up from his chair. "T'Pol, Malcolm, I want a complete report from each of you ASAP." He stepped near to T'Pol's station. Looking at her he sighed. He knew she could feel something of what he was thinking, but she merely waited for him to speak. "T'Pol, I'm going to have to ask something else of you. There may come a time when we must contact the Minbari. Judging from the current situation, they may not react too well to me or other members of this crew."  
  
"You wish me to act as a representative?" she asked, raising a single eyebrow.  
  
"In a sense," he said. "I want you to represent the Enterprise as an unknown quantity; it may not be the best of ideas to let them know most of us are human, at least at first."  
  
"You wish me to." she paused. "Omit, the presence of Humans, in contact?"  
  
He could feel she wasn't comfortable with the thought of lying, or prevaricating rather. But he could also feel that she would do her best for the crew.  
  
"I will do my best," she said.  
  
"It may require you to learn the major Minbari tongue."  
  
He felt an echo of what might have been amusement in the farthest depths of her mind as she said, "That should not be a problem. My memory is extremely well trained. With Ensign Sato's assistance it should take little time."  
  
* * *  
  
Jon finished up his plate and set it aside. Malcolm sat at his own place already finished with his meal, while T'Pol was still working through her plate of vegetables. He glanced at her as he sipped his glass of water. Like everything else she did, her eating habits were precise and fastidious. A moment later she set her fork aside and returned his gaze.  
  
"Sure you don't want to finish?" He asked.  
  
"Chef has a tendency to prepare in excess of my needs," she replied. "I believe his words were that I should put more "meat" on my bones."  
  
"Ah," he said. He smiled into his drink and then said, "All right, Malcolm. What have you found out?"  
  
The tactical officer straightened. Jon had asked that he receive a verbal briefing before reading the written reports and he knew that Malcolm had expected to deliver it before dinner. But Jon had had the feeling that the information wasn't going to do any good to his digestion.  
  
"Bluntly speaking, Sir, we wouldn't want to have to get into an even fight with the ships we took the scans of."  
  
"Hoshi called them Sharlins?"  
  
"Yes, Sir. In the analysis between the Sub-Commander and myself we believe we have come up with a far idea of their capabilities. And they're extremely impressive sir. No two of them seem precisely alike, it is as if the builders were putting individual artistic touches into all of them. They average about sixteen hundred meters in length with a mass of forty- four million metric tones. Their main power source seems to be some type of artificially created singularity."  
  
Jon set his cup down, abruptly, saying, "A singularity."  
  
"Yes," T'Pol said. "They appear to be able to generate and focus gravatic fields with the precision necessary to create a micro singularity with which to annihilate matter. The matter is fed into the singularity and then gravitational fields are terminated. This results in the evaporation of the singularity and the release of its consumed mass as energy. It is a highly developed and efficient system. Far surpassing even Vulcan means of power generation."  
  
She stopped and looked back to Malcolm.  
  
He cleared his throat and started again, "There were a great many unfamiliar energy weapons. We registered over one hundred weapon mounts on each of the vessels along with several indeterminates."  
  
Jon took a deep breath. He'd been right: this wasn't doing any good to his digestion.  
  
Malcolm continued. "T'Pol analyzed the video footage that was broadcast of one of these ships attacking a human base. The type of energy discharge is unfamiliar, but she estimates that the power discharge is in the megatons per second range. These ships are capable of delivering a massive amount of firepower."  
  
He paused, seeming to gather his thoughts then said, "The defensive capabilities are where the technological anomalies start to crop up."  
  
"Anomalies?"  
  
"Yes sir. Despite their tech level they don't appear to have any type of active energy shields. Their defensive systems consist of two main parts. One: the hull armor. It averages ten meters thick in the main body of the ship and is composed of some sort of polycrystalline material. The sensor readings seem to indicate that it is extremely effective at refracting directed energy discharges. However, it seems to be relatively brittle when compared with many modern alloys. The second part of the defensive system is a gravatic stress field that is generated around the ship by the main engines. The field has the property of blunting physical impacts and diffusing energy passing through it. The combined system is quite effective."  
  
Jon poured himself another glass of water as Malcolm continued. "Their drive system is, in theory, more advanced than ours, being completely gravatic. Which, by our theories of conservation of inertia and momentum, should be impossible. Of course that simply means that they have better theories. However, their inertial compensation is far less efficient. Simply put, sir, we could run circles around them at impulse."  
  
He fells silent as Jon settled back into his seat. After a moment Jon said, "What's our tactical situation Malcolm?"  
  
"We can't fight them on any kind of level playing field, sir. Against the energy levels their weapons are using to destroy the Earth ships our hull plating will hold up for a very short while. But, from our sensor scans, it looks like they are using their weapons on the lower end of their power output, and if they start raising their power levels. They'll punch right through even the improved hull plating."  
  
"What about us damaging them?"  
  
"We may have several things working for us on that front. First is the nature of the energy emissions used in phasers; it doesn't have the same characteristics as, say, particle beams or lasers. The working principals are different. So we believe that the phasers, at high power, will be able penetrate their defenses. The photon torpedoes will be less effective. However," he glanced at T'Pol. "We think we can use the transporters as a weapon delivery system."  
  
"Oh? How?"  
  
"Their defenses are either passive or gravitationally based, and thus won't impede a transporter beam. We can simply deliver a torpedo warhead, to a sensitive portion of a ship, set to detonate on materialization. We don't believe that they would have any defense against such an attack."  
  
T'Pol spoke up, saying, "It would appear that our development of subspace technology has been component to the development of our ability to manipulate matter and energy. They never developed subspace science and are consequently less advanced in those areas. The full description of our technological differences is in the written report."  
  
* * *  
  
"Jump to normal space."  
  
The order was issued by the Captain of the Valen'na. Delenn glanced around the circle at the other members of the Gray Council. Their attentions seemed fixed on the holographic view that surrounded them. Exiting the jump vortex the red and black shifting wash of hyperspace was replaced by the pure black of normal space. The other Sharlins spread out ahead of the Valen'na, moving to engage the Humans.  
  
Delenn contained her emotions, sickened by the slaughter that she knew was about to commence. The Human colony was small, barely more than a few thousand people. Not that it would have mattered had it been millions; the outcome would still be the same. They could not fight her people.  
  
Her people. Whom she could not find a way to stop, lost as they were in rage, grief and madness. Her own anger had turned to ash; all that was left was grief, grief and shame. Shame that she had started this, shame that she could not stop it.  
  
The colony was easily seen in the holographic view. It floated in space, a spinning wheel a kilometer across. Several ships, Human military hung in space nearby. Shuttles could be seen speeding away from the station toward the waiting ships.  
  
The sensor readings confirmed that they were full of Humans, desperately trying to escape the coming holocaust.  
  
* * *  
  
"Sir!"  
  
"You heard me Lieutenant, combat readiness."  
  
"Yes, Sir. Charging hull plating and weapons."  
  
"How far out are we Hoshi?"  
  
"Four minutes sir."  
  
Jon looked at Malcolm. The man shook his head saying, "The Sharlins will be in firing range of the Earthforce ships in one and a half to two minutes."  
  
Jon hit the communicator. "Trip, can you give me any more speed?"  
  
"Cap'n, we're already pushing six point four. But I'll see what I can do."  
  
A shudder went through the enterprise and Travis announced, "Warp six point five."  
  
"Hoshi?"  
  
"It's going to be close, Sir."  
  
Jon braced himself in the chair and hit the com again. "All hands prepare for combat."  
  
"Phasors: charged. Hull plating: standing by, it will go to full power when we exit warp. Transporter weapon: ready and waiting." Malcolm delivered his status report steadily. Then looked up at the Captain and said, "Sir, are you sure we want to be doing this? Those are five Sharlin cruisers."  
  
Jon looked at him and said, "Lieutenant do a scan of those shuttles. What kind of people are you picking up?"  
  
There was a momentary pause then, "Civilians, adults and children."  
  
"Can you stand by and watch them be killed?"  
  
"No, Sir."  
  
"Neither can I, Lieutenant, neither can I."  
  
"Travis, drop us out of warp right between the Minbari ships and the earth vessels. If the firing starts, take your cues from what Malcolm is doing, but keep us moving. With the weapons on those ships we don't want to be a sitting target. Malcolm, once it starts, fire at your discretion. Take them down as fast as you can. Surprise is the only way we're going to survive this."  
  
"Aye, Sir."  
  
"Aye, Sir." 


	5. Chapter 5

No Beast so Fierce  
Chapter 5  
By Verbosity  
  
Captain Julia Thorne sat, strapped into her seat in the zero-g of the EAS Dauntless's bridge, eyes glued to the tactical display. She was trying, by sheer force of will, to hurry the last of the shuttles into the bay. The station was evacuated, this was the last load and she had three thousand civilians stuffed like sardines into her ship.  
  
"Thirty seconds to their weapons range, Mam." Her tactical officer's voice was tight.  
  
Her communications officer said, "The Hermes reports their loading complete."  
  
"Tell them to get out of here." She kept her voice level.  
  
"Mam," tactical's voice rose to a shout. "Energy spike in the Minbari weapon systems! They're preparing to fire!"  
  
Their estimates of the Minbari's weapons range had been wrong. Her hands clenched down on the arms of her seat. She could hear a whimper from someone toward the back of the bridge. Ensign Morgan probably; it was his first deployment. And he was going to die. Her crew was going to die, the civilians would die; she couldn't save them. She wanted to scream, to howl, to rail against the universe, the God, who would allow her people to be snuffed out as if their deaths had no more meaning than the pinching out of a candle.  
  
But she didn't. She was proud of how little her voice trembled, even though she knew how useless the words were, as she said, "All hands, brace for contact."  
  
* * *  
  
"Unknown contact."  
  
The crewman's voice carried clearly through the pickup and around the council chamber.  
  
What? Delenn shifted her attention away from the human ships.  
  
There.  
  
Between the Earth vessels and war cruisers sat a lone ship. It was small, and strangely designed, consisting of a circular section and two long cylinders protruding away from the back. The hull was free of markings and a dark gray color. Delenn had never seen a ship even remotely like it.  
  
"Who's is it?" Copelann's voice echoed in the chamber.  
  
"Unknown, Satai. Sensors are unable to lock onto it. We are passively registering its presence but it seems to be absorbing the sensor beams."  
  
Delenn felt a chill go through her. She knew of no race other than her own who had such stealth technology.  
  
Glances were traded among the council members.  
  
Morrann suddenly spoke out. "The Human vessel has completed its docking. We will deal with whomever these new arrivals are after we attend to them."  
  
Various heads around the chamber were nodding. Delenn's was not one of them.  
  
"Captain commence-"  
  
Morrann's command was cut suddenly by the reception of a transmission from the unknown vessel. It filled the chamber with a female voice, utterly devoid of any emotion, that said, in perfect Adrinato, " Do not fire upon the Humans. If you attack the Earth vessels we will destroy you."  
  
The calm certainty of the statement gelled the unease in the pit of Delenn's stomach to a cold fear. Something was seriously wrong. None of the younger races would dare to stand against her people, none of them could, and yet this small ship stood unflinching in the path of five war cruisers. A horrible suspicion began to creep into her mind.  
  
In thought, she nearly missed the Trigasi's captain's order to open fire. Her head jerked up as she drew in a breath to order him to stop, but restrained herself, she could not be certain. Surely none of them would become involved.  
  
Brilliant emerald spears of energy lanced out from the Trigasi as its weapons discharged. Delenn watched, her mind and spirit in doubt, as the ravening beams smashed into the alien ships hull. It seemed to shudder under the impact for a moment as the energy clawed at its gray hull. The beams ceased and she stared in growing horror at the undamaged vessel. No ship of the younger races could endure the fire of Minbari weapons unharmed. None had the technology to construct a vessel with such strength. That left only one possible conclusion: the First Ones. The awful realization flashed through her mind in an instant, and she opened her mouth to give an order, but it was already too late.  
  
There was a momentary blip of energy between the alien ship and the Trigasi, an instant later the Trigasi exploded. Even as the crews of Minbari cruisers froze in a moment of stunned surprise, the alien ship open fire with some sort of beam weapon. Shimmering beams lanced out to probe, almost gently, at the drive fins of the nearest two Sharlin cruisers. Where the beams touched, the hull simply.disintegrated, melting away into billows of sun hot plasma.  
  
"Quickly, get me the captain of the Trigati!" Delenn's voice was strident with shock and fear.  
  
The other Minbari vessels began to open fire, energy searing out into the void, attempting to destroy. The alien ship surged into motion, moving impossibly fast, avoiding the opening salvo of the undamaged cruisers. Again there was an odd blip of energy between the strange ship and one of the cruisers and an instant later another Sharlin died in a fiery detonation. Meanwhile the shimmering beams never ceased, stabbing out to touch the fins that focused the energies of the gravitational drives. Leaving another cruiser dead in space.  
  
* * *  
  
"Captain," Lieutenant Reed drew Jon's attention. "The Minbari ships have stopped attempting to target us and are pulling back."  
  
"Cease firing."  
  
"Aye, Sir."  
  
Smoke drifted across the bridge, and sparks showered from one of several overloaded consoles.  
  
"That was a little too easy," Jon muttered.  
  
"Sir," Hoshi spoke up. "There was a coded transmission from the large ship to the others just before they ceased."  
  
Jon glanced at it in the view screen and nodded. Must be the command ship. "What's our status Malcolm?"  
  
"We've overloaded half the relays on the polarized plating, Sir. We can't take any more hits. They'll go through the hull like tin. One of the phaser banks is out and I'm reading fluctuations in the warp core."  
  
"Status of the Earth ships?"  
  
Hoshi said, "One identified as the EAS Hermes is already entering a jump point. The EAS Dauntless is right behind them."  
  
* * *  
  
Whoops and yells of elation filled the bridge of the EAS Dauntless, after a moment of stunned surprise, when the first Minbari cruiser exploded.  
  
Julia had had a feeling of surreal disbelief when the small ship had appeared out of nowhere to place itself between the Minbari ships and the fleeing Human vessels. Every alien race had refused to give aid to Earth when the Minbari had declared war, so the thought of someone coming to their assistance was unbelievable.  
  
She could feel the collective holding of breath as the Minbari ships opened fire. They had seen so many of their fellow vessels torn apart without mercy by those terrible weapons. There was a collective sense of astonishment and a feeling of excitement that ratcheted even higher as the little ship took the punishment without flinching and then returned fire. Armor that human weapons had barely succeeded in singing dissolved before the alien weapons.  
  
The small ship surged into motion and she stifled a swear at the sheer acceleration it displayed. It avoided the Minbari salvos and an instant later another Minbari cruiser exploded.  
  
The Minbari vessels ceased firing and began to pull back even as the jump point closed behind them. Julia slumped back into her chair. Not caring, for a moment, if her crew saw her relief.  
  
Maybe God was listening after all.  
  
* * *  
  
"They're away, Sir."  
  
Hoshi reported the closing of the jump point, but Jon didn't take his eyes from the Minbari vessels. Two were spreading fields of debris, one was drifting, its drive apparently nonfunctional due to phaser damage to the drive fins, but two were still operational. And with Enterprise's current damage even one would be way more than they could handle.  
  
"Sir," Malcolm said. "The Minbari are trying to burn through the stealth field with their sensors."  
  
Jon nodded slowly. The Minbari didn't know who they were. He had them uncertain and off balance. Best not to give that advantage up. "Is there any danger of it?"  
  
"No, Sir. The field generator is undamaged."  
  
* * *  
  
This was unforeseen, and that was impossible. That ship could not be here.  
  
Kosh examined the Minbari sensor feed. It was play fit for a Vorlon child to tap into a computer system a primitive as the Minbari's, and so Kosh had done since he arrived on the ship. Though he hardly had need of them, his senses being more than a match for many of the technological devices of the younger races. He, though Vorlons did not have the same genders as many other races Kosh was closer to a he than a she, did not truly need to monitor events. Yet he felt closer to these young races than most of his kind, so he watched over them, even though he knew the necessary path they would tread.  
  
The events of the last few minutes had broken the circle. The ship should not be here. Something critical had changed and the path that had been so clear was suddenly shrouded in uncertainty.  
  
One part of his awareness observed the Gray Council as they argued over what action to take, another swept over the Minbari ships tasting the shock, tension, and fear, a closely related branch of his mind reached out to brush at the departing Earth ships to determine if they knew the identity of this mysterious vessel. As he touched the minds of those who were supposed to have died, he understood that they had no more idea than the Minbari.  
  
The Gray Council was divided; part wished to call reinforcements, attack, and crush the ship that had hurt them, while the others wished for more information. He could feel the anger, fear, and turmoil inside of them.  
  
And Delenn, Delenn's thoughts were in turmoil; she thought the ship was of the First Ones. The group of ancient races his own people belonged to.  
  
He contemplated that for a moment and reached out to touch the Vorlon's group consciousness, a sort of communal knowledge pool that was shared among all Vorlons. No, it was not there. The ship was not anything that had ever been encountered.  
  
Very well, the next step might be dangerous, but the Minbari sensors were being blocked, so other methods were required.  
  
He reached out a part of his mind to the small alien ship. There were a number of minds there. They felt.human, all but one. That one was distinctly different, more evolved. Where they were turmoil it was calm, where they were impulse it was logic and control. Kosh approved.  
  
Even as he touched that mind, shields slammed up around it with surprising strength. Kosh took a mental step back; the mind was far stronger that any of the younger races he had ever come across.  
  
But not nearly so strong as a Vorlon.  
  
Extending himself again, he wrapped around the other's mind and began to exert pressure. He was careful, ever so careful. He had no real wish to harm the being, but he must know more.  
  
* * *  
  
Jon swayed in his chair as the world suddenly wavered around him.  
  
An alien presence. Pressure. An overwhelming power, a mind so vast it dwarfed her own.  
  
He was vaguely aware he was hunched over clutching at his head. T'Pol. Something was happening to T'Pol.  
  
It was an effort to look to look toward her. She was rigid at her station and her eyes gazed unseeing at the console. Her attention was turned inwards with her entire form radiating strain.  
  
He could feel her desperately trying to keep something out. Some vast presence had wrapped itself around her mind and was moving inward. The pressure was hideous.  
  
"Captain!"  
  
He was aware of Malcolm's shout and he tried to make his mouth work, to force out words. He couldn't. The spillover from T'Pol's mind was too much.  
  
He could hear Malcolm speaking, "Travis, get us out of here! Maximum Warp!"  
  
And then only blackness. 


	6. Chapter 6

No Beast so Fierce Chapter 6 by Verbosity  
  
Disclaimer: See first chapter.  
  
Sorry, this one is a little short. I'll try to make up for it in the next chapter.  
  
***********************  
  
Kosh's grasp on the alien broke as it suddenly moved away at supraluminal velocities.  
  
He hadn't been able to observe much from the beings mind, just some impressions, fragments really. He noted the ship's direction of travel. His people would find them again. The appearance of this vessel indicated a fundamental change. A dangerous change.  
  
* * *  
  
"Why?"  
  
Delenn's emphatic question echoed through the council chamber. "Why are the First Ones involving themselves in this conflict." She turned to Morrann. "We know they do not concern themselves with the doings of the younger races. So why are they taking action to preserve the humans?"  
  
"You have said yourself that their minds are unknowable." The speaker's voice verged on sneering; the members of his caste were still smarting from being ordered to with draw from battle with the First One's vessel. "So what does their motive matter?"  
  
Delenn stared at him, her expression calling into doubt his sanity for asking such a question. " The First Ones are wise beyond our understanding Copelann. If they have such a reason as to cause them to act to save the humans, in defiance to everything we know of their behavior, it must be a motive of surpassing urgency! We must know why these First Ones do not wish the humans destroyed."  
  
"Delenn speaks wisely," Hadronn said. "We must pull back on our war efforts while we attempt to ascertain the answer to this question." The other members of the worker and religious castes on the council nodded in agreement.  
  
There were protests from the three warrior caste members of the council.  
  
"I understand your desire not to stop the war effort. You forget that Dukaht was my mentor." Delenn said, speaking to the three. "But if we continue, we risk angering the First Ones. Such a choice would end not in the human's destruction, but ours."  
  
* * *  
  
The record finished playing back with the closing of the jump point behind Dauntless as it escaped into hyperspace, and Commander John Sheridan could feel the air in the room vibrate with a mix of curiosity, awe, excitement, and something he had not felt from his fellow officers in the last few months: hope.  
  
The silence broke into a general babble.  
  
"What the hell kind of weapons were those?"  
  
"Did you see..."  
  
"Who were they?"  
  
"Do you think..."  
  
Sheridan remained silent, standing beside his captain, going over the engagement in his head.  
  
General Lefcourt stood on the platform and raised his hands for silence. "As of yet we know little more than we've just shown you. An unknown alien vessel appeared in defense of the retreat at Draconis, successfully engaging five Sharlin cruisers. Destroying two and disabling an additional one, all apparently without taking damage. Who these beings are, we don't know. We don't know where they come from or why they have helped us. None of the other races we have contacted were able to identify the ship or suggest what race it might belong to. At this point we have only one possibility, offered by the Markab ambassador." The General paused for a moment, letting anticipation build before continuing. "He referred to a group of races to which he gave the appellation "First Ones" he said that only a race from this group could have done what that ship did. The First Ones are supposedly those few races that have survived from earlier epochs, races that are quite literally billions of years older than humanity."  
  
There was a moment of contemplative silence then a voice drifted up from the mass of officers about the floor, "No wonder the Minbari were getting their asses kicked!"  
  
There was a spate of laughter from around and the general cracked a smile. After a moment he held his hand up for silence.  
  
"The Minbari have gone quiet. They are no longer advancing on any of our colonies, but neither are they retreating. They are holding position, possibly waiting for something. The only reason we have for this behavior is the intervention of the ship at Draconis. We are making every effort to contact the Minbari, but as of yet they have not responded."  
  
He surveyed the assemblage and then continued, "We are very eager to make contact with the race that has assisted us. The Markab ambassador seems to think it unlikely that they will make contact. He says that the First Ones have generally ignored the younger races, and he does not know why one of their number might be stepping in on our side. Irregardless of this, it is now a standing order that you treat any contact with these vessels..." a picture of the alien ship was displayed upon the screen. "With the utmost delicacy, treat them with all possible goodwill and courtesy." He paused and then said, "What that means, is give them anything reasonable they ask for, invite them back to Earth, and for God's sake don't piss them off."  
  
"What do you think John?"  
  
John looked to his Captain at the question, his mind still mulling over the behavior of the unknown ship. "I'm not sure what to think yet, Sir. We don't know enough about the unknown ship to draw much in the way of concrete conclusions." He shrugged. "Whoever they are they're powerful, but as to whether they're actually on our side or not..."  
  
His Captain looked from John to the screen and said, "I hope to God they are, John. Because anyone that take on the Minbari at five to one like that, would roll over us without even noticing."  
  
* * *  
  
Delenn stepped through the doors into Dhukat's sanctuary. She prayed the Vorlons would have answers for her.  
  
In the middle she turned, looking around the room. It seemed empty so she spoke. "Are you here?"  
  
A sound like soft chimes mixed with a hundred instruments whispered though the room. Within the sound a voice said, "I have always been here."  
  
Whirling she found the Vorlon behind her, where she had looked and seen nothing only a moment earlier.  
  
Only one Vorlon, not the two she had been expecting.  
  
She asked, "You know what has happened?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"What should we do?"  
  
"What you must."  
  
Delenn digested that answer, turning it over in her mind. "I don't understand, do you mean to say that we must do as these other First Ones direct? Or-"  
  
"The circle is broken, yet the truth still points to itself."  
  
Delenn was silent. Circle? What did that mean? Then she said, "I don't understand."  
  
"Examine those whom you kill, and you will. We will attend to the circle."  
  
* * *  
  
Lenonn asked, "The Vorlon would answer nothing further?"  
  
"No," Delenn said. "And I do not understand what answers it did give."  
  
The old Ranger leaned on the table where he sat, across from Delenn. "Rarely do children understand all that adults say, yet they must act as their understanding allows. Adults know this. Act upon what you do understand, Delenn. Trust that the Vorlon knows your limits. It will be enough."  
  
"I wish I had your certainty, my friend."  
  
Lenonn gave a little laugh. "Certainty? Call it faith, rather." He paused, seeming to gather his thoughts. "You believe the Volon referred to the humans?"  
  
"I see no others it could be. "Those whom you kill," he said."  
  
Nodding, Lenonn said, "Then we must examine them as he has instructed. Perhaps, then, we will understand more."  
  
* * *  
  
Kosh exited the dimensional fracture. Moving in one moment, from the sanctuary onboard the Valen'na to his ship, which paced the Minbari vessels from within it's fold in space.  
  
He shed his encounter suit, at home in the native environment maintained by his ship. The suit was truly unnecessary for Vorlon's to survive outside their native environment; they had long ago evolved past the point where the conditions about them could possibly be a hindrance. However, it was a useful tool in their interactions with younger races.  
  
He flowed through the drifting vapors, causing the organic compounds within to fluoresce, illuminating the chamber in an eerie, shifting glow. After a moment His physical form settled into immobility in a hollow that the interior surface of the ship obligingly created.  
  
One part of Kosh's mind kept watch on the debate raging within the Vorlon people. Billions of minds, touching, intermingling, consulting. Sooner or later a majority would agree upon the matter of the unknown ship, and action would be taken.  
  
The other parts of his mind reviewed, once again, the information gathered about the vessel.  
  
His own ship hadn't been in a position to take a reading of the unknown, so he, and the rest of the Vorlon's, were limited to the information from the Minbari sensors.  
  
Frustrating, but unavoidable at the the moment.  
  
The information was puzzling. The energy signature of the beam weapons were unusual, and yet familiar to the Vorons. They had seen it before, long ago.  
  
The method of faster than light travel the ship had employed was also familiar. The Vorlons had used it once themselves. When they had first reached out among the stars. Eons ago.  
  
The weapon that had caused the destruction of two Minbari cruisers had caused it a moment of bafflement, before it had realized it was a matter- energy transporter. Matter was disassembled, sent to a specific set of coordinates in a quantumly phased matter stream, and reassembled. It was an odd and cumbersome process for something that could be accomplished simply by avoiding the space in-between. Even young races such as the Streib and Vree had figured that out.  
  
The conclusion that had been reached was that, in spite of the Minbari's conclusions, the ship was not a product of any of the First Ones. The technologies, even if esoteric, were simply too primitive.  
  
Of far more concern to the Vorlons than the people originating the ship was where it had come from. It should not have been possible for the circle to have been broken. Paradox had taken place, a far more difficult thing than the younger races truly understood.  
  
Kosh could still taste the mind he had touched upon the ship. The rigidly ordered thought patterns that constrained the fierce passions underneath reminded him of the youth of his own people.  
  
And the humans. Once again the humans were the anomaly. They-  
  
Kosh's thoughts were disturbed by his ship requesting his attention.  
  
He split off another fragment of his mind to attend to it while he continued to reflect upon the puzzle of the human's presence.  
  
There. Molecules left behind from the unknown ship's hull. Just a few molecules. Too few to be picked up by anything but an intensive close range scan by the Minbari. Obvious as a nova to Vorlon sensors.  
  
Kosh directed the ship closer, bringing the traces of matter within the space fold that hid his ship. He couldn't conduct an active scan outside it without the Minbari noticing.  
  
Part of Kosh's mind fused with the ship's own and he examined the few stray atoms. Some common elements and one that was rather rare. Nothing unusual. The ionization indicated that they had been knocked loose by the Minbari weapons fire. The quantum signatu-  
  
The mental fragment of the Vorlon that was examining the atoms rippled violently as he realized what he was seeing. Suddenly those few atoms had his whole attention; every piece of his multifaceted mind focused, hoping he had been mistaken.  
  
He hadn't.  
  
Kosh turned his mind to the great debate raging among the others. Grimly he interjected his finding.  
  
The quantum signature did not match this universe.  
  
Shock, consternation, traces of fear, a rippling anger. They all reverberated though the link.  
  
It had happened once, a million years ago, and it had nearly destroyed the Vorlon people.  
  
Now, their universe had been invaded again.  
  
The unknown ship must be found immediately. The breach in the universe sealed.  
  
Among the billions of minds there was no dissent. They remembered what had happened long ago. The danger was clear.  
  
The circle no longer mattered.  
  
Thought was action and, as one, the Vorlon Empire began to move.  
  
The ship would be found.  
  
By any force, any means necessary. 


End file.
